Green light for Good, Red light for Ruin
by turnipchick
Summary: Pre-series, the Eppes family head out for the beach, instead of sand and sea they find their worlds are turned upside-down, because of one careless lorry driver. Rated T to be safe. An Eppes-family whump.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Green light for Good, Red Light for Ruin

**Author:** Turnipchick

**Summary:** Pre-series, the Eppes family head out for the beach, instead of sand and sea they find their worlds are turned upside-down, because of one careless lorry driver.

**A/N:** Apologies for the short chapters, I will try to update regularly to compensate.

:) R&R Please! I'm a new author and I need your help to get better! :P

It was summer, and finally the family Eppes was together, at home. With both Charlie and Don on vacation from college, Alan and Margaret were determined to do something as a family.

" Come on," Alan shouted up the stairs, "and bring a towel, we're going to the beach"

Cries of "Aw, Dad" came from both sons. Don, now supposedly a grown man at age 20, was much to old for the beach, and Charlie, with his newly broken voice, felt like he had to rebel against everything that wasn't Math.

Eventually they all bundled into the car, but only once they'd packed baseball stuff for Don, and convinced Charlie that he could do equations on the sand, and set off for the half hour journey. They'd been driving for about 10 minutes when they came up to a junction, they waited, Charlie trying to explain to Don his latest ideas, oblivious to the fact that Don had headphones in, and wasn't hearing a word he was saying. Finally, Green Light. Don still listening to music, Charlie still attempting to explain his math, Alan still driving, Margaret still discussing their plans for the rest of the summer. A lorry driver still driving, still driving, right through a red light and straight into the Eppes' car. There were no screams, no tears before the impact, no time, not even a second to comprehend what was going on. The Lorry hit the left of the car, closer to the back; Alan and especially Charlie took most of the force.

Then, for everyone involved - Darkness.

Don woke first, with a killer headache, he checked himself over, he was pretty much Ok, but his arm was definitely broken, and his head was bleeding. Suddenly what had happened hit him, and he took a sharp breath, before looking around him and reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. He undid his seatbelt to try and get a better look at his family as Margaret Eppes began to wake from her lorry-induced slumber.

"Mom" said Don his voice hoarse.

"Oh God Donny..." She said as she turned to look at him reaching out to his blood covered forehead.

"Are you alright?" asked Don, nervously looking at his bruised Mother.

"Yes, I think... maybe my ankle, but your head Donny..."

"No mom," said Don pulling away from her touch "Dad, and Charlie" They both turned, first to Alan, who did not look good, The whole left side of the car was pretty much crushed, and Alan's legs with it. At this Dons Mother started to cry, and Don turned back to his cell phone.

"Damn! No battery" shouted Don, angry at his own stupidity. "Mom, you have yours?"

"No, but Charlie..." They looked at the 14 year old at the mention of his name.

"Oh... Charlie" whispered Margaret at the sight of her son's broken body. Charlie was a bloody mess, his hair matted with blood, his small body caught inside the twisted frame of the car.

"Donny...is he..." Don cut her off

"He's breathing mom, he's alive" he left out the 'barely' for his mother's sake. He took a deep breath "Where's his cell mom?" and turned to his mother, tears streaming down her face.

"In his pocket I should think."

Don closed his eyes, looking at the broken wreck of his brother was just too much. He opened them to a slit and concentrated on getting his brother's cell. He remembered Charlie calling him to say he'd finally been allowed to get one. Don had had no idea what he would use it for, the only people he'd call was mom or dad, or him he supposed.

Finally after extracting some pens he found the solid plastic casing of the phone. Suddenly a wave of dizziness hit him and he instinctively passed the phone to Margaret.

"I think you better call, mom... I feel like I'm gonna..." and then the darkness took him once again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Green light for Good, Red Light for Ruin

**Author:** Turnipchick

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I own nothing but my own imagination.

**Summary:** Pre-series, the Eppes family head out for the beach, instead of sand and sea they find their worlds are turned upside-down, because of one careless lorry driver.

**A/N: **To clear up issues from chapter one – a lorry is a truck (I'm British, forgive me, I didn't know :S) – Don's age should have been written as 19, that's cleared up now – Cell phones wont be mentioned again, now I realize how awful my history is!

Thanks very much for the great reviews, and an extra special thanks to Starfishyeti for being an amazing Beta for me.

Don opened his eyes slowly, the killer headache had only got worse and his arm was hurting even more. He was lying in a hard bed in a small room painted a sickly mint green. A television was bolted to the wall directly opposite. There was a large window on his left letting in the late afternoon sun and two doors were in the wall to his right. Sounds of people walking past and soft tannoy announcements seeped through the closest door. He tried to work out where he was, and eventually came up with the word hospital. Slowly he remembered more and more; the crash, the sight of his family all broken and covered in blood. He was suddenly enveloped in an overwhelming desire to be with his parents, his brother, and yet here he was, all alone. He carefully pushed himself up in bed, but even his slow actions caused his head to swim. He waited a moment, and when it didn't clear up he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor. The sound of his retching brought a nurse to the door, who rushed in with a basin. Eventually, when he had finished, she handed him a glass of water so he could wash the taste of vomit away. Once finished he sat up again and looked at the woman.

"Where's my family? What's wrong with me?" He asked. He had meant to sound strong, but his true fear shone through in his voice.

"You've had an accident and you've got a concussion and... a broken arm. The concussion's fairly mild and the break's nothing to be concerned about," she said while getting his chart, "Eppes, right?" Don nodded slightly not wanting to risk the nausea again. "It's fairly common to feel nauseous with a concussion and I'll get you something for that. Are you in pain, because I can give you something for that as well if you'd like?"

Don wanted to be strong and not take the painkiller, but his head and arm were hurting too much. "Yes, please," he whispered.

"OK then, I'll go and get them. I'll also see what I can find out about your family... who I can contact," she began to walk away.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the nurse returned with sparse information. Don learned little of his father or brother, but eventually was told that he would be able to see his mother soon. That had done little to settle him, but he submitted to the seemingly endless tests in the hope that they would result in him being allowed to see his family sooner.

When Don and Margaret were reunited they embraced awkwardly, as both were bruised and sore. They discussed each other, convinced each other not to worry, both were being kept overnight, Don due to his concussion, and Margaret because she had suffered an open ankle fracture, and they wanted to keep an eye out for infection. Soon the talk turned to Alan and Charlie, and the accident, and before they knew it mother and son were in tears.

Both Don and Margaret were released the next day. They got a cab from Citrus Valley Med center straight to Memorial Hospital, where they had eventually discovered Charlie and Alan were being treated. Don had been advised, more like ordered, not to drive, not that he had a car anyway. He wished he could. He needed the time and peace. Neither he nor his mother wanted to engage in conversation with the irritatingly jolly cab driver, whose only problems seemed to be the price of milk. The traffic was unusually slow for the time of the day, and neither Don nor Margaret uttered a word for the duration of the journey.

There was a queue at the front desk of the hospital; a queue! And when they finally got the information they were after, they were torn. Charlie was on one side of the hospital, in a pediatric ward, and Alan on the other. Neither Eppes knew what to do. Margaret began to ask 'Your Father, or your Brother?' of her son, but that was like asking a parent to chose between their children or between their husband and child, something she couldn't do at the moment. She looked at her son whose eyes reflected her own emotions; confusion, fear, even a little anger. Then, understanding and determination flashed across his face.

"Charlie... If we have to choose, mom, I'll take Charlie. Dad needs you." He didn't want to choose at all, but, then again, he never wanted, or expected to be in a situation where anyone, let alone all of his family were hurt.

He watched as his mom hobbled down the corridor for a second, before turning and heading towards room 223. He wondered if it was a prime number. Charlie would like it if it was. He passed a little kid on crutches being helped down the corridor by her parents. They gave him a look of pity, and understanding, but Don didn't think they could understand, in any way, what he was going through.

Finally, he reached room 223, although he was so engrossed in his own destructive thoughts he nearly missed it. He turned the door handle, expecting the worst, expecting blood and tubes. Instead he found an apparently peaceful, sleeping Charlie. There was an oxygen mask and a few wires and machines, but Don's overactive imagination had pictured much worse, and he almost sighed in relief.

"Hey Chuck," he whispered.

There was what looked like a metal brace secured to Charlie's head and shoulders. it looked like it might go down further his body, but Don couldn't see beneath the covers. He didn't like the look of it. He turned to find a doctor to tell him what the hell was going on when one strode through the door.

"Oh... um, who..." the startled doctor seemed to be having trouble stringing a sentence together. So Don stepped in with the only information he could rely on giving. Information he had been so often offering recently.

"Don Eppes," he said, waiting for the surname to click with the young man in front of him.

"Oh, the brother, I assume. I'm Dr Mercer, I've been treating Charles -"

"Charlie," Don cut in automatically.

"Um, yes… Charlie." He seemed to falter, " How old are you son? I mean, I should really be speaking to your parents.

"I'm 19," he said through gritted teeth, desperate for the doctor to cut to the chase, and tell him what was wrong, "and I know my parents should be here, but my father is on the other side of this hospital, my mother is with him, and I'm old enough to hear what you have to say, just… please." He sighed, and rubbed a hand through is hair.

"Yes, er… well, considering the situation, he's a lucky young man. Brain injuries are very common with this kind of accident, but he's petty much unscathed in that department..."

Don relaxed, just a little, 'Good,' he thought, 'Charlie needs that brain of his'. Then he realized that the doctor hadn't finished, and his chest tightened again. "But," he spat out, terrified of the reply.

The young man sighed, " Charlie suffered some serious damage to his spine. The surgeons downstairs worked on him when he was brought in to release some of the pressure on his spinal chord, but he'll need to stay in traction for 6, maybe 7 weeks. He's sustained what we call a T8 injury, um...we can't be completely sure... I mean, every case is different, but this type of injury most often results in paralysis from around the waist down... I'm, I'm sorry. We can talk about this more another time, if you'd like?"

Don just nodded. Another time would be good, never would be good. He knew it was the poor man's job to tell him all this. It wasn't his fault, but he felt like it was, and it was all he could do to keep from lashing out.

"Can I... can I stay?" he whispered, as loud as he dared.

" Yes, yes of course," the young doctor nodded enthusiastically.

Don was now reduced to single words, as he wanted to control his emotions. "Wake?" he said questioningly.

It took the doctor a second to understand, "Um... he's on pretty heavy drugs, so he'll be pretty tired, and groggy, but he is just sleeping. He should wake up soon."

"Thank you," Don muttered, as he sat down in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed. The young man left the room, leaving Don alone with his brother. He reached over with his good arm and took hold of the younger Eppes' small hand. His eyes wandered around the room, resting on the childish decorations, and he thought of how Charlie would much rather they were equations. Finally he turned back to his brother secured in place by metal pins, and hot tears began to run down his cheeks. "Oh Charlie," he murmured " What are we gonna do?" Then, he let go and sobbed.


End file.
